


So I Can Be Comfortable

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: When Blaine’s pregnant and gets really big, he likes to wear Kurt’s shirts because they’re the only thing he feels comfortable in.</p><p>Originally posted on Tumblr June 8th 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So I Can Be Comfortable

Coming home from work at the end of a long day was one of Kurt’s favourite things to do in the whole world.

Tired and aching, he longed at the end of the day for nothing more than to peel off his sweaty shirt, shower, and change into a pair of comfortable sweats before stretching out on the sofa alongside his husband. 

And since Blaine went into the third trimester of his pregnancy a few weeks ago and was finding it difficult to cope with the long hours at home in such stifling June heat, it was even more of a reason to look forward to the end of the working day, so that he could curl up next to him and put his hands on his vast stomach to feel their baby kick, or else whisper the events of the day against the smooth, stretched skin so that he or she could learn all about what their daddy did for a living. 

The Tuesday in the third week of June was one of these days.

 

Temperatures had reached ridiculous heights, and Kurt had to unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt and roll up his sleeves in order to try and cool down as he rushed for the subway, pulling off his tie and balling it in his hand as he swung himself into a cramped and stuffy carriage. He cursed the rush-hour and wanted desperately to get home to Blaine, to rest his feet and get take-out because he didn’t feel like cooking, and eat on the couch and watch re-runs on Netflix and rub Blaine’s belly until they were both too tired to stay awake any more and went to bed, Kurt cradling Blaine as best he could because he knew he had trouble getting comfortable at night.

Stepping into the apartment they’d bought three years ago, in need of a shower and something soft to throw himself down on, the coolness of the interior compared to the sun beating down outside was immediately apparent. Thank goodness for Blaine’s insistence that they invest in a decent air conditioning system as well as good-quality standing fans, because in New York in the middle of summer, you needed them.

But Blaine was nowhere to be seen. The sitting room was empty, save for a couple of fans whirring on each of the small tables either side of the large couch, and a quick look to see that the bathroom door was wide open showed that he wasn’t in there either. Unbuttoning his sweat-sticky shirt, Kurt moved towards their bedroom, where the door was closed.

“Blaine?” he called softly, grasping the knob in a damp palm. “Blaine, sweetie, I’m home.”

Pushing the door open, it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dimness; the curtains had been pulled closed, to block out the sun, and a small fan was whirring on the nightstand by the bed. 

Then he saw Blaine, spread out over the top of the duvet, fast asleep. There was a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin and beading at his temples and forehead, curls fluttering with his breath as his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He looked tired, his face pinched slightly and cheeks red from heat. It wasn’t good for him get so hot; Kurt was glad he was sleeping.

Then his eyes adjusted a little more, and he saw that Blaine was wearing one of Kurt’s shirts, too big on him, which he’d left open and unbuttoned, his chest and round, protruding belly bare, a rising silhouette in the dim room. He wore a pair of underwear, the shirt, and nothing else.  

The idea of Blaine wearing his clothes sent a thrill down Kurt’s spine. The sight of him, fast asleep in one of his shirts, made Kurt feel warm all over, and he longed to lie down next to him, to pillow his head on his chest and trace shapes on the wide, round plain of his stomach with his fingertip, coaxing the baby to move and kick at his hand, which he knew would make Blaine laugh although it must hurt when the baby kicked, because there wasn’t really much room for him or her to move around now. 

He gently shook Blaine’s shoulder, smiling when he snuffled in his sleep, as if trying to shake off consciousness. A few moments later, Blaine opened his eyes, squinting slightly. He saw Kurt, and smiled sleepily, eyelids fluttering. 

“Hey,” he said, yawning slowly and loudly, rubbing across his large belly. “You been home long?”

“No, no, I just came in. How long have you been asleep?” Kurt moved to press a hot, dry kiss to Blaine’s shoulder where the sleeve of the shirt had slipped. “I see you found one of my shirts.”

“A couple hours,” Blaine yawned again, wriggling himself up the bed so that he could sit up, bracing one hand on his lower back and wincing. “And I, uh, hope you don’t mind. About the shirt, I mean. Nothing else fits me and it’s way too hot to wear any of my own shirts…..”

“Don’t apologize,” Kurt said, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s mouth this time, slow and yielding, allowing his tongue just to trace the seam of Blaine’s bottom lip. His hand came up to cup his round belly, and the skin was hot to the touch. “It looks good on you.”

 "You’re just saying that to make me feel better.“ Blaine murmured, kissing back with fervour despite the heat and the sweat that stuck his shirt - well, Kurt’s shirt - to his back.  He pulled back. "I know I look like a small whale.”

“Don’t,” Kurt kissed his bare shoulder again, “be,” he kissed the side of his throat, damp and salty with sweat, “ridiculous,” he kissed the side of his mouth, “you look,” the spot just below his right ear, which made Blaine squirm on the bed and giggle, trying to shy away from Kurt’s hot breath on his skin, “perfect.” Finally, he kissed his temple, brushing away a stray curl of hair that had come loose. “You’re having our baby. How could you not be?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you were in my position.” Blaine groaned. “I can’t see my feet any more, but I know that they hurt and they’re all swollen.”

“Well,” Kurt began, smirking as an idea suddenly came to him, “if you can lift yourself up off the bed and get to the couch, I  _might_ rub your poor feet for you and get you a nice cool glass of something to drink. How does that sound, hmmm?”

“That would be perfect." 


End file.
